


Skeletons in the Closet

by notquiteaphoenix



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, M/M, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-11-26 03:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquiteaphoenix/pseuds/notquiteaphoenix
Summary: Jack Morrison, the librarian from a farm in the middle of nowhere, fits perfectly into Gabriel's life. His family loves Jack, he fits into Gabriel's friend group like he's always been there, and Gabriel can easily imagine him always being in his life.And yet...Gabriel knows only the bare bones of Jack's history.No family, no childhood friends. Jack talks as if he has only existed since college.Then he receives an invitation from Jack's Aunt.(Jack desperately hopes their relationship survives his family.)





	1. The Invitation

“You must invite him for our next moon viewing,” Morticia says.

Jack chokes, this time not from the sharp acidity of the henbane tea. “I couldn’t impose—“

“Nonsense! We’d be happy to meet your new beau.” Gomez claps his hands together, then gazes at Morticia with such conviction. “After all, what better time to invite new family than the Worm Moon?”

Morticia’s eyes widen. She glances at Jack before reaching across the table to take Gomez’s hand in her own. “Darling, let’s not cast...aspirations before we have met the young man. We know nothing about him.”

Ah. That sounds more suspicious from his aunt that is healthy for anyone involved. Jack sits up straight. He isn't ready to introduce Gabriel to either side of his family. 

“Right, right! correct as always, Tish.” Gomez pulls away from Morticia and takes a cigar out of his jacket. He offers to Jack, who shakes his head. “Now,” Gomez says, prepping his cigar. “You have to tell us all this...say, what is the young man’s name?”

“Gabriel,” Jack blurts out. The desire to tell his dear aunt and uncle about Gabriel clashes hard with the need to keep Gabriel a safe distance from his more eccentric family.

“Gabriel,” Morticia repeats, voice laced with a prying curiosity. “How did you meet this young man?”

“At the gym, actually.” Jack blushes, this isn’t some great dramatic tale like Aunt Morticia falling in love with her sister’s betrothed or his dad falling into his mom’s arms (literally). But this story is _ his _ and Gabriel…

Well, Gabriel is amazing.

And Jack hasn’t had anyone to tell that to, having avoided his family and the danger they bring to someone outside of their sphere.

The words spill out of Jack, telling his aunt and uncle about the gym, the dates, Gabriel’s passion for five million projects and his—now their—friends.

The afternoon hours pass before Jack feels like he takes a breath. He gulps down air, hoping he didn’t ruin anything. Exposing a little bit of Gabriel to the darker world can’t hurt, right?

“What a character!” Gomez says, down to the end of his cigar.

“Yes, we just have this Gabriel for dinner. Your plan for the Worm Moon is perfect, Gomez.”

Jack almost breaks the teacup. “We are both very busy, Aunt Morticia...I’ll see what I can do but I don’t think we will both off of work. Maybe some other time”

She smiles in a way, both delicate and sharp, that promises blood. “Of course, dear. We will be so happy to meet this Gabriel. Soon.”

Jack smiles back, faked but solid and channeling every bit of charm he has gleaned from his aunt and mother. “Yes, of course.”

A week later back in California the letter arrives, all delicate spidersilk weave and a black molten seal.

The very sight of it in Gabriel’s hands stops Jack’s heart,

Jack stares, frozen as Gabriel unfurled it to reveal dreadfully familiar script.

“Hey Jack, we’ve been invited to a...party?”

Jack glances down at his mug, wishing his coffee to be one of Cousin Wednesday’s poisons.

* * *

Jack explains. Tries to, at least. 

And Gabriel definitely gets that the Addams are his family and Jack loves them dearly…

But seriously “and we should never visit” is _ not _elaborated on.

And sounds like a challenge.

“Jack,” Gabriel says, grinning. “You met my sisters and mamas and like all my friends. It’s my turn for the embarrassing stories.”

The mortification Jack gives off thrills Gabriel: he turns red, almost blotchy. There is something good hidden here, Gabriel can almost taste it. And from the way Jack glances at him and then back to the wall, whatever it is is close to the surface.

Still, Jack remains stubborn and unforthcoming. "We’re not going.”

“We totally fucking are—do you know how hard it was for me to arrange for the week off?” Gabriel crosses his arms. McCree owes him more than enough to cover shifts, sure, but he also has rescheduled four commissions.

This appears worth it, though. 

The reactions? The break in the perfect polite farmboy mask? Gabriel lives for those.

“You don’t know my family,” Jack says, running a hand over his eyes.

“Are they racist homophobes?”

“No!” Ah and there’s that scandalized look. Which, is hopefully a good sign. Gabe will admit, privately, to wondering the cause of his boyfriend’s reluctance.

And Gabriel can’t promise to tolerate bullshit.

“The how bad can they be if they produced you?”

So prepared to fight, Jack stutters over a protest, cheeks going a deeper red. He glares for a moment, then sighs. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Gabriel tugs at Jack’s arm until Jack leans in. “Look, if this ends up being a shit show, we leave and hit up a beach somewhere.”

Jack makes a soft, rough sound; a suppressed laugh. “Alright,” Jack says. “Just remember, this is not my idea.”

“Of course not, all the fun ideas are mine.”

This time he gets a real laugh from Jack. Gabriel can’t help but crack a smile, both reflecting his boyfriend's mirth and a twist of satisfaction.

Sometimes Gabriel feels like some forgotten fairy godmother inserted Jack into his life. And that’s great; he adores the way Jack, with his easy-going energy and secret snark under the aloof demeanor, melded into his life to the point it was hard to remember a time before the blond showed up.

But fuck, Gabriel loves the man and wants to know _ more_. Who did he grow up with? What kind of stupid shit did Mr. Loves A Challenge get into as a kid? 

...and why, if Jack visits his family so much, does he never tell Gabe about them? 

What kind of skeletons are in Jack’s closet?

* * *

After six hours of more than enough empty fields to make Gabriel miss city traffic and the most godawful country music playlist—McCree must have put it together because Jack’s taste is not that bad—they pull into a sleepy town with a mix of buildings that scream either ‘old’ or ‘hipster’ and Jack finally says “Almost there.”

“Fucking finally.” Gabriel stretches his neck, relishing the relief after the flinch worthy sounds. 

“You’re the one who wanted to come with,” Jack says, not quite looking at Gabriel. “And at least there isn’t any traffic out here.”

“Why are you complaining about traffic? You can walk to work. Still don’t know how you managed to get the apartment.” Even if Jack is prone to accepting more than his fair share of extra hours, overtime for librarians can’t be that much. 

(McCree had suggested that Jack was a grifter with a tone of awe, after Gabriel moved in with Jack and the gang’s Sunday brunches moved into the swanky apartment. Genji had flatout asked if Jack did porn.

Jack had just laughed and Gabriel has been stuck with curiosity ever since.)

“I never told you?” Jack blinks like it hasn’t been yet another agonizing Perfect Jack Morrison Secret. “Uncle Gomez owns it. The building, that is.”

“Wait, _ what _?” Gabriel’s brain screeches to a halt because of all the possibilities he’s entertained—and he may have entertained Genji’s suggestion of Jack camming on the side—but Jack coming from money never really crossed his mind. The guy acts like bubble tea is the pinnacle of luxury! “Have you been holding out on me?”

More confused blinking.

Gabriel resists the urge to bang his head against the window. “I mean, are you like _ loaded _?”

Jack shrugs. “More spoiled. Aunt Morticia and Uncle Gomez have always been kind.”

_ Kind _. 

Fucking hell, if he had known Jack’s family was rich—

No. Gabriel refuses to entertain the thought of _ changing _ himself for the occasion. He left his hoodie behind for a casual yet fashionable overcoat for the chill and put on a nice button-up because Jack looks unfairly good in that black turtleneck and, if nothing else, Gabriel will use this trip to take good pictures to prove to his mamas and sisters that Gabriel doesn’t _ always _ wear his hoodie. 

(He is playing a little low-key, though. None of the skull or owl designs he uses in his work and professional persona. Jack has never said anything to discourage him, not even at library events, but Gabriel can hold off pushing his family too far. Either give them a chance to know Gabriel first if he likes them, or go full-out gothic ‘scary’ boyfriend if Jack’s rich relatives turn out to be assholes. 

He can find a way to make it up to Jack later, if needed.)

Out of nowhere, a sharply Victorian-style house—no, _ mansion _ appears out of the flat fields. It’s just a dark stain on the sky and yet Gabriel already has haunted house vibes, like the legit ones that Gabriel has yet to manage to drag Jack to; somehow Jack always has family events going on at the end of October. At least Gabriel gets him for the second best holiday (Christmas).

As they get closer, Gabriel presses his face against the glass, taking in the sharp lines of tall, spiraling towers with steep roofs and ominous weather vanes—one of them might be topped with a dragon—and the dark gray siding that seems to suck in the gold of the surrounding fields of picked-over grain. 

Gabriel wants a camera or sketchpad or something. This place is straight out of his dreams.

And then Jack stops at the gates, which slowly open before the car. 

The whiplash is both physical and mental, from Jack’s oh-so-gentle use of the breaks and Gabriel’s brain trying to catch up on what his boyfriend has been planning.

“This some kind of themed bed and breakfast?” Gabriel says, grinning. “You trying to soften me up to play nice with your rich relatives?”

Jack looks at the house and then back at Gabriel, honest confusion on his face. “No, this is the place. I think Uncle Gomez inherited it from some cousin or another.”

Gabe’s about to ask exactly how much money is in this family when he sees past the gates. “Is that a _ cemetery?” _

“Of course.” Confusion shifts into a smirk and Jack waves a hand to the gate. “We are at ‘001 Cemetary Lane.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jack grabs all of their luggage. He always does and it always leaves Gabriel between charmed and annoyed. 

The misplaced chivalry gives him a moment to _ admire _ the desolate remains of garden at winter. (Not snoop; that’s for his sisters. Or Sombra.)

There’s a light layer of snow blanketing the ground but what pops out of the white catches his eyes. The yard is framed by two weeping willows and between them are scattered thorny bushes. Not roses; he’s done enough of those designs to be familiar with the with the sharply curved thorns and it leaves him curious. Nothing is very familiar in its decay, except for the little seed pods Gabriel is almost certain is from poppies.

It’s not a particularly neat garden, though it works well with the imposing and sharply crowned gate they entered through; seemingly from another age and would not garner welcome a homeowner’s association.

But this is also _ mansion lane _ from the grand houses he can see in the distance and rich people are _ weird _ so who knows what goes on here. 

Gabriel follows Jack up the path to the door. 

Just above the door there is a plaque and Gabriel may not have taken a class or anything but between Spanish of his Mama’s side of the family and a number of ‘fancy’ tattoos he’s done using the language, he thinks it says something about...eating your enemies?

If he’s even close to correct, Jack might have some interesting relatives. Or ancestors, at least.

Or, like some of his clients, relatives who just like edgy Latin.

“Gabe, can you get the bell?”

“Sure.” Gabriel tears his eyes away from the words. 

There isn’t a doorbell button and it takes Gabriel a moment to connect _ bell _ to the dangling rope. He pulls down on it with an eye roll.

Why are rich people always so—

BOOM.

It feels like the whole building shakes and Gabriel grabs Jack’s shoulder, ready to pull them to cover. 

Jack, still holding all the luggage and as still as a mountain looks at him curiously. “Are you okay, Gabe?”

He’s about to ask _ what the fucking hell was that _ when the door opens.

Gabriel looks up.

And keeps looking up.

Gabriel knows he’s not the biggest guy in the world; hours in the gym keep him solid and he’s not _ short _ but this guy makes him feel strangely small.

“Lurch,” Jack says, voice fond and bright. “It’s good to see you.”

Lurch glances down at Jack, then slowly moves his gaze to Gabriel. He groans and gestures them in before taking the luggage from Jack’s arms and disappearing into the house.

Anger twists in his gut and words are at Gabriel’s tongue—

—and a sharp elbow hits him in the side.

“That’s how Lurch greets everyone,” Jack says. “He’s just very shy, I swear.”

Gabriel crosses his arms. “Is he a...cousin?”

Jack hums an agreement. “My aunt and uncle’s butler technically but we would all say he’s an Addams.”

“Butler. Gabriel shakes his head. “Here I thought you were a _ farmboy_.”

“I am. My parents have a farm. I just spent a lot of time here.” Jack looks away and, well shit, Jack never backs down like that.

“Hey…” 

It’s a moment of vulnerability, Jack neither has his librarian role or their circle of friends to deflect off of, and for a moment, Gabriel thinks he has a good crack to get Jack to say _ something _.

A voice, soft but strangely cutting, breaks the mood. “Jack.” 

The soft look on Jack’s face washes away and he looks up brightly. “Aunt Morticia!”

Gabriel annoyed by the ruined moment, but still very curious to finally meet Jack’s mysterious family. 

She’s pale, paler than even Jack and all the black—her hair, her eyes, that dress with trailing wisps of sleeves—just adds to the dramatic flair. The only color is her dark red lipstick. She moves quickly, her tight dress implying the tiniest of steps yet giving the seeming of floating across the floor. 

She looks like a vampire out of an old black and white movie. 

Gabriel digs it.

Jack moves forward, his left hand still holding to Gabriel’s, to take her hand and kisses the back of it like something out of a movie.

“Dear nephew, I was not expecting you so early.”

Jack grins at her sheepishly. “We wanted to avoid the traffic. Hope we aren’t imposing too much?”

“Our home will always be open to you, Jack. The day you came to stay with us, I promised you a place in our home, our hearts, and our mausoleum.” 

That started out sweet but that _ last part _ has Gabriel eyeing Jack.

And maybe this is a thing for people rich enough to have not only a cemetery but also mausoleums because Jack’s smile warms and loses all self-conscious awkwardness. “I haven’t forgotten. Thank you.”

Looking between them, Gabriel would never guess this is Jack’s aunt; the only thing he can see that they share is Morticia’s smile, the slightest upturn of lips that Jack sometimes defaults to, the one that gives him a reputation of being stern. 

Gabriel wonders if Morticia also relaxes into bright smiles in private, into that full body laugh Gabriel sometimes got from Jack. He’s not sure he’ll ever see it as something about the way she scans the rooms reminds Gabriel of his mom in her dress blues; clothes and expression tied to a certain severity of persona. 

As Jack releases her hand, Morticia turns. “You must be Gabe.”

Gabriel copies Jack’s movement, feeling awkward but from a familiar slightest curve of her lips, he knows he’s winning a point. “Gabriel Reyes.”

“Jack has told me much about you. And there is still more I would like to know,” Morticia says, not a change in intonation from the way she speaks to Jack to _ that _ and she still makes it sound like a threat.

Gabriel can’t help but grin. He might end up liking her. 

“I do hope my nephew doesn’t drag you around at such an unseemly hour.”

Does she know his shop opens at midday? Is that something Jack has told her? Or is that some kind of weird dig?

Before Gabriel has a chance to bite back, Jack says, “We generally have to get up pretty early and we’ve gotten used to it—”

Gabriel snorts. “Speak for yourself“

Jack glares. “—and it’s a good way to avoid traffic.”

“At the cost of waking so early and such harsh sunlight? You should take better care of yourself, nephew.” Morticia says. “I do hope Jack has not given you the impression we keep such odd hours.”

Gabriel glances at Jack in question and the asshole is pretending not to notice. “Honestly, he hasn’t told me much about you.”

“Jack.” She says, filling the name with admonishment and maybe Gabriel is imagining it but she seems amused?

Jack does not share that emotion. He doesn’t try to make an excuse, just stands there gazing down the hallway with a stubborn clench to his jaw.

“I do believe I’ve taught you proper manners.”

Lo and behold, Jack Fucking Morrison backs down from an argument and looks down guiltily. 

Gabriel hopes _ his _ face isn’t giving away how amused he is. Jack’s seen far too much of the Reyes clan that Gabriel’s been looking forward to this. 

“Well...it is much too early for dinner but let me get you two some tea after that long drive. Jack, do take your young man to the parlor while I get the teapot.” With that, she drifts away, practically floating across the room.

Jack sighs and looks at Gabriel. “Last chance to back out.”

“You’re kidding me, right? I think I’m going to invite her to my mom’s next barbeque.”

Jack snorts and starts walking down the hall. “You’ll never get Aunt Morticia out in the sun like that. Come on, the parlor is this way.”

Gabriel follows, ready to give Jack shit about why their apartment doesn’t have a _ parlor _ when a shape catches his eye. 

He’s never seen one in person but—

Is that a fucking Iron Maiden!?

“Gabe,” Jack calls out over his shoulder, looking concerned. 

Gabriel tears his eyes away, promising himself he’ll have a better look later. “I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhm, I'm writing slowly but still having fun with this. 
> 
> And just FYI, my general headcanon for Gabriel is he has two moms (one of which is a literature professor and the other is in the armed forces <strike>and basically Isabel Lovelace from Wolf 359</strike>) and is the middle child with an older sister and two younger sisters (who are twins).

**Author's Note:**

> <strike>I have a great and enduring love for The Addams Family.</strike>
> 
> Feel free to commnet or find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wwmusing), or [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/notquiteaphoenix).


End file.
